Curiosity Killed the
by FireBreathingNinja
Summary: "Curiosity killed the cat." A rather popular saying that has a tendency to be ignored. However, beloved Alfred F. Jones learns that some questions just aren't meant to be answered. "He really hadn't meant to upset him; Alfred was just being his usual curious self!" USUK


**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

Alfred sat in the dark and confined space, his arms wrapped around his knees as he tried to make himself as small as possible. He was panting heavily, attempting to draw a decent breath from the warm and stuffy air that surrounded him. To his frustration, the air that he breathed in heavily tasted of chemicals and dust, having been tainted from the cleaning products that were—to no surprised—also trapped with him. Alfred was sitting huddled and cramped in the cabinets that were underneath the kitchen sink, hiding from the other occupant of the house. He had lined each and every one of the bottles of soaps, window sprays, bug sprays, and other cleaning products in front of him; it was his attempt to create a barrier between himself the cabinet doors, those of which could open at any moment.

Feeble protection as it was, he was willing to try anything at that point.

Footsteps were heard from above him. Alfred felt his heart beat incredibly faster at the sound; the man upstairs was obviously taking his sweet time in looking for him, steps in an uncomfortably even rhythm. It became apparent that the man was slowly making his way from the third level to the first, checking every room and every closet for the other. Alfred resisted the immediate urge to whimper, knowing that even the slightest noise would reveal his hiding place. And God forbid that to happen. Alfred resisted making another sound, this one a sigh, as he thought about how he landed himself into this situation. He really hadn't meant to upset him; Alfred was just being his usual curious self! Of all times, why did his boyfriend choose _that _evening to be sensitive?

/\/\/\/

"_Hey, Artie?"_

_The two were cuddling on Alfred's bed, watching some horror movie on which the television had been stationed when they flipped it on. The movie was at a perfectly befitting scene where the leading couple was staring at the beautiful night sky, displaying romance before the killer would suddenly appear and hack them to pieces. Alfred would know; he had seen the movie dozens of times._ _The blonde in his arms hummed, further nuzzling his face into the crook of Alfred's neck and tightening his hold around him._

"_Yes, Alfred?"_

"_Well… We've been dating for a while now…"_

"_Yes, yes we have. Eight months to be exact."_

"_Right, eight months… So I was wonderin'…"_

"_Spit it out, you git."_

"_Can-I-see-your-true-form!" Alfred rushed out, squeezing his eyes shut in anticipation for the other's raging temper and loud outburst. He felt arms unhook from around his neck and soon after could feel Arthur's body detach from his. He felt the bed sink beside him and knew that Arthur had completely distanced himself. Alfred slowly cracked open one eye towards his boyfriend. He was surprised to see that the Brit wasn't glaring at him, but rather had his face turned towards the large bedroom window. He was slightly unnerved, however, by his very still position; Arthur didn't seem to be moving at all with his back stiff and straight against the bed's headboard._

"_Arthur—"_

"_Are you that desperate to see my true form, Alfred?"_

_Alfred blinked, taken aback by the sudden question. Was he desperate? Where did that accusation come from? Alfred only believe it natural to want to see what his boyfriend looked like, if not out of curiosity then he believed that their shouldn't be any secrets between them._

"_I'm not desperate for anything. I just think that there shouldn't be any secrets; I just want to see the _real _you."_

"_But why does it matter?" Arthur practically shouted and was suddenly in Alfred's face, emerald green eyes piercing into aquamarine blue, "Why does it matter how I appear to you, Alfred? It's not as if it would change who I am," Arthur looked down, "…Right?"_

"_Of course not, Artie—" He was about to embrace the boy when television abruptly switched off and the lights in the room flickered before, they too, went dark. The room was abruptly thrown into pitch blackness. Alfred immediately began to panic and reached out towards the place where Arthur had been, but only grasped at empty space. He cursed. He already knew that he had just done something really bad._

"_Arthur?" He called out and the lights flashed on once more, momentarily blinding him. When Alfred was no longer disoriented, he looked about the room, noticing that Arthur was nowhere in immediate sight. He was about to call out once more before a voice echoed around the room:_

"_You have exactly one minute, Alfred. And, in that minute, you better hide and _pray _that I do not find you."_

/\/\/\/

"Wherever you are at, here I come…" The accented voice sang from somewhere outside the cabinets. The man in question flinched, trying to quietly huddle himself into the hiding place even more. The action caused a tiny squeaking sound as the buttons on his jeans scraped against the plastic mats that had been spread out underneath the sink. He internally swore.

Arthur hummed, "I do believe I have found you…" The footsteps became more distant and Alfred sighed in relief.

"Hello, love."

Alfred jumped at the noise, bumping his head on the metal pipe behind him, glasses bouncing off his face from the impact, "Fuck!" His vision became blurred with tears and he rubbed his bruised head, turning to look at the Englishman that was now peeking into the bottom cabinets, green eyes glowing eerily in the darkness. Ignoring his weakened eyesight and attempting a smile, Alfred reaching to his side for the wrench that lay hidden behind the row of cleaning fluids.

"Hey, Artie! How ya doin'?"

A small smile appeared on Arthur's face, "Oh the usual, Alfred; just deciding the most incredibly painful way to kill you."

"Well that's a little harsh, don't you think?"

"Possibly. So, my dear, are you ready?"

"Nope!" And with that Alfred swung the metal tool at Arthur's blonde head, hearing the satisfying sound of metal making contact with…something. Alfred wasn't exactly sure what Arthur was made of, he just hoped that the assault had been enough to stall him. He dashed out of the cabinets, knocking over the useless barrier he had made and scattering the many cleaning supplies across the floor. Arthur lay unmoving on the ground, whether unconscious or simply injured, Alfred didn't know. He just knew that the guy sure as hell wasn't dead and that's all he cared about. He ran up the stairs, dragging his hand up the banister and his feet thumping loudly on the carpet.

"Alfred…"

'Dammit, how'd he recover so fast?!' Alfred let out a loud screech, before dashing into one of the second-floor bedrooms. Footsteps trailed slowly behind him.

'Where to hide, where to hide?' He thought frantically. Arthur had more than likely checked every nook and cranny of the house for any possible hiding places, Alfred knew that. And even if he hadn't, then he would not waste time in doing so then. But, he wondered, where Arthur was least likely to check first? Blue eyes flashed to the closet; there was a little panel in there. If Alfred could just get there before—

Everything went black.

"Guess who?"

Alfred let out a very weak laugh, "Aren't we a bit too old to play these childish games?"

The response came in the form of sickly sweet and hot breath by his ear, "Never. Now guess."

Alfred hummed, placing a finger on his lips and fluttering his eyelashes deliberately behind the small hands that covered them, "is this," He paused for a moment, stretching the vowel in that word, "Arthur?" His eyes shifted, gazing at the palms that were over them, the light from the bedroom lamp peeking through the slender fingers.

Alfred was not incredibly surprised by the other's response: "Incorrect. Try again."

"Okay then. Is this a faerie?" Alfred is then completely blinded; also, the weight on his face has grown slightly heavier.

"Wrong again, I'm afraid."

"Dude, seriously?" Alfred released a heavy sigh. "I'm never gonna get this right."

"Do not fret, love, you've nearly got it. Just one more guess, and it will be over."

He'd rather not. Alfred had a very strong suspicion that he would not like where the game ended. And judging by the constant movement behind him—Arthur seemed to be getting extremely impatient, kicking slightly at the back of Alfred's legs and pressing his hands even closer to his face—he would suspect correctly.

"I don't wanna!" Alfred whined. He most _definitely _did not.

There was a low buzzing sound that came from behind him, causing Alfred to turn his head slightly only to have Arthur tighten his grip on him, and keep him facing forward.

"Ah, ah, Alfred. You still haven't guessed. How about a hint, hm?" Was the offer.

The younger blonde resisted the urge to snort at the tone of Arthur's voice. It was so gentle, and so soothing, that had he not known better the fear—the ice-cold, heavily increasing pressure in his chest—might have disappeared. But, he did know better obviously.

"That'd be great!" He responded cheerfully. There was low chuckling behind him.

"Alright; well, there was a time in the earlier parts of our relationship—just a few weeks in, actually—where you told me about a terrible moment in your life. You had gone to one of those fast-food places—otherwise known as trash—"

"I take offense."

"—And you ordered a double-stack cheeseburger. When you asked for this restaurant's 'super-ultra-mega secret sauce', you had the misfortune of discovering that they had run out," Another chuckle, "You threw an absolute fit as you were telling me this, of how horrible that was for you. You even gave titled the event, if you recall. I believe you named it—"

Alfred finished the sentence, eyes widening, "My worst nightmare…" He breathed.

"Beautiful, darling."

Alfred was suddenly thrown into the air, landing roughly on the bed; his head cracked against the cherry headboard and the air nearly being knocked out of him from the impact that his body made on the mattress.

Groaning in pain, Alfred cracked open his eyes. Arthur was sitting on top of him, his legs on either side of Alfred's hips, while being completely bare of clothing. The blonde underneath swallowed heavily, gazing up into the dark that were above him. Arthur's eyes were completely black, the color absorbing his green irises as well as the whites of his eyes. The spiky strands of his hair seemed to be unusually sharp, the ends curling pointedly and dangerously into the air; the yellow color had also paled, making it almost white. From his back, beat a pair of wings that were not as beautiful nor lovely as they were made out to be in fairy tales; they were insect-like and quite clear—almost completely transparent—making the veins that ran through them very visible. They were what kept most of Alfred's attention.

"Like them?" A voice—not Arthur's voice—purred. Hands—claws—trailed up Alfred's chest, long and dagger-like nails shredding the fabric of his shirt. Alfred resisted the urge to flinch as the large, freezing hands made contact with his bare skin.

"R-Right, they're great," He stuttered. This made Arthur pout, the expression sharpening his fearsome features.

"You do not seem so sure, Alfie. Do you really like them?"

"Of course!" Alfred exclaimed shakily, "They're a part of you, aren't they?"

Arthur hummed, "Well, when you put it like that," A wide grin appeared on his face, stretching his lips into a wide and unnatural smile. This revealed white and shining canines, looking deadly. A pink tongue escaped Arthur's mouth and swept over his lips and thick rows of teeth, "I don't believe you," He leaned in…

A scream pierced the air.

**Author's Note of Awesomeness:**

**Use your imagination. ;)**

**OH-THE-IRRELEVANCE: So I finally understand the connection between the Holy Roman Empire and Germany. I mean, I always **_**knew **_**they were connected, but I didn't understand **_**how**_**. But thanks to AP World History, I do now! :D It was all thanks to King Otto I! **

**Yuki: She failed that test, by the way.**

**Ya know how your parents and teachers **_**warn **_**you to study in advance? Listen to them. You're not as awesome as you think you are. And btw, I **_**averaged **_**it. That is **_**not **_**failing!**

**So, what'd y'all think? I got the idea while I was watching Vampire Diaries, ain't that a hoot? Actually, I got **_**another **_**idea from VD, but this idea branched off of that. Don't ask what the original idea is because I'm trying to write it. All I will say is that it was originally PruCan. (PrussiaxCanada) it incorporates other pairings if you don't like that, but, regardless, that's the primary couple.**


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